Sienna forgot all about the women in the Dower House, forgot about her potential ruin and that she hadn’t even believed she liked Nolan earlier. Nothing else existed but the feel of Nolan’s firm jaw against her lips. His shaved skin was warm, prickly, and he smelled divine. She wanted to bury her nose against his neck and inhale him.
The floorboard by the door to the room creaked and she squeezed his hand tightly. Surely the women would hear the thundering of her heart, which was as loud as all of the British cannons going off at once.
She edged closer to Nolan, as if somehow his body could protect her from this impending disaster. He grunted softly, the noise sending a shower of sparks through her body.
‘Look at these beautiful curtains, Maribelle.’
‘Oh, they are delightful.’
Two sets of feet sounded, floorboards groaning as the women passed the foot of the bed on their way to the windows. Nolan’s arm came around her waist, his hand splaying across the small of her back. She nestled closer, pressing her nose into the space between his neck and his shoulder. She closed her eyes, breathing him in, willing herself to calm down.
The two women continued to chatter about fabrics. Nolan’s breathing was rapid; she could feel his pulse beneath her lips. The urge to taste him with the tip of her tongue was pressing down on her.
His forefinger traced a slow circle on her spine. She shivered, the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention, goose bumps running across her skin.
‘These curtains would look divine in my Summer Lounge.’
Sienna flinched; Nolan stilled. It seemed they had both forgotten the women in the room.
‘I love the pinks and greens.’
Sienna’s cheek tingled, an itch building, so strong it obliterated every other consideration. She had to scratch it, had to move. She counted to five, willing it to fade. The two ladies rambled on. The itch built.
The rough stubble of Nolan’s cheek would soothe it, but rubbing oneself against a Duke’s skin, like a cat claiming territory, was not done. But then, hiding under a bed was hardly following the rules of Society.
The itch became all-consuming.
She tilted her neck as subtly as she could manage and gently rubbed against his emerging beard. It soothed her skin and delicious relief swept through her. She sighed softly.
Nolan groaned.
‘What was that noise?’ asked one of the women, her voice coming from the bottom of the bed.
‘It sounded like a man.’
‘It did…and it was very close by.’
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